Need
by anakinlove
Summary: They all needed him, but no two in the same way. Of course, it was also true that he needed them, perhaps even more than they needed him. Bruce   Dick   Jason   Tim   Damian   supercutness!
1. Dick Grayson

**I am an idiot. This idea was not actually mine in the first place, I simply embraced it. All credit for this lovely brain child goes to smergrl3495. I merely wrote it and did some tweaking. Sorry about that. **

"Sometimes I just wish you never took me in!" The words were out of my mouth before I could stem their tide. And he was just looking at me. Hurt didn't register on his face, but I could see the flicker of it in his eyes. A moment later, it was gone. I tried to convince myself I had imagined it, after all, Batman didn't have feelings, but it was easier said than done. His blue eyes darkened and narrowed.

"If that's the way you feel", he said stiffly, "Perhaps I could find alternative living arrangements for you."

"Yea", I snapped, too angry to even comprehend fully what he was suggesting, "Go find me a real family. Now, are we gonna go out on patrol or what?"

"I have half a mind not to let you go. You're unstable right now."

"You're not my father, I'd probably have killed myself by now if you really were, I'll go if I want to." I couldn't believe what I was coming out of my mouth right now, but somehow, it just kept coming.

These awful things that tasted like bile coming out of my mouth, so acrid that they bit my tongue as they rolled off, just kept spewing forth. And he took them, like he took the blows from all the goons and all the supervillians. He rolled with the punches, just like he always did.

I stalked over to my costume and got dressed quickly. Then, I got in the car, folded my arms, and stared out the front window. He slid in next to me and revved the engine. We didn't say anything else to each other as he propelled the car out of the cave.

The countryside flew by as we soared towards the city. I was still fuming. It wasn't as if he'd done anything incredibly awful to merit me saying such things, I had been in a bad mood and it had taken me a little too far.

I was just so sick of those stupid taunts. I was sick of being made fun of at school for my current living situation. I was sick of the snide looks those other parents always gave me, sick of all of it. I was sick of the crap I kept getting from everyone about Bruce. Many of them knew only my name, but to them I was just Bruce's boy toy. I wasn't in reality, but no matter how many times I said it, they just kept right on with their whispering and their giggling and their pointing.

Stalking down to dinner when Bruce got home, my anger had had a chance to incubate and though it usually lessened with time, today it had merely intensified. Several rude comments on my Facebook page had helped with the rekindling.

So, when Bruce started talking to me about how I had failed so and so test, I just snapped. It wasn't like he was yelling; Bruce didn't like to yell, but it was enough to rile me up. So, I screamed hurtful things at him and now we had an awkward car ride to the city where I could beat some moron to a pulp for stealing a television.

But, I was too angry to ponder any of this. And for some reason, Bruce was just letting me rage. He wasn't making me stop or anything. He wasn't yelling at me, telling me I shouldn't be disrespectful, he just let me bark like I was a dog at the end of a chain. Somehow, that just made me want to rebel even me.

Scarcely before the car had even stopped, I was out and darting after some random goon. He called after me to stop, but I ignored him. I could tell it was going to be a long night.

00000000

Arguing with him felt good, yelling at him even better. I was just so mad, I felt the childish need to push his buttons too. Him bellowing at me on that rooftop in front of those goons was enough to spurn me on.

"I TOLD YOU TO WAIT BEFORE YOU JUMPED IN LIKE THAT, THIS ISN'T A GAME, YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN KILLED!"

"I DON'T CARE, GOD, JUST STAY OUT OF MY WAY. I CAN HANDLE THIS ALL ON MY OWN, YOU DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING."

"JUST GO HOME, YOU'RE DONE TONIGHT."

"NO, I'M STAYING."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Go home", he hissed. I felt a chill go down my spine. He hardly ever looked at me like that.

"No", I replied. The goons stared at each other fearfully as he stalked up and hauled me off my feet by my collar.

"BOY, YOU BETTER DROP THE ATTITUDE OR I SWEAR…" Right then however, the bat signal went up, flickering to life across the cloud cover. Batman dropped me. "Lets go", he growled. He'd put enough of the fear of God I me at that moment to make me limit myself to just grumbling quietly under my breath as I followed him.

We landed alongside each other on the rooftop, but it was with stiff spines that we faced the commissioner. It was as if he could feel the tension in the air when he spoke next. "I'll keep this short Batman. There's a hostage situation up on the north side of town. Some psycho has kidnapped several people and is demanding money for them. We have reason to believe he has under his employ a few child soldiers so it's a bit delicate."

"Understood", Batman replied gruffly, "lets go Robin."

"I'll go if I want to", I growled under my breath. The commissioner looked at me a little surprised and Batman shot me a venomous look, but I took off.

"Teenagers", the Dark Knight muttered darkly to Gordon before shooting off after me. We landed lightly atop the roof and gazed through the window. There were a few teenage boys there, milling about and hefting large guns. An older man came through and started barking at them.

"I don't see the hostages", Batman muttered softly, "Do you?" I shook my head. "I know you're just going to fight me if I try to assign us posts so why don't you make the plan." I was surprised by this, but I supposed the hostages meant more to him than my temper tantrums. I knew I was gonna get it at home though.

Bruce had never spanked me. He seemed to understand that it would change things between us, alter them in an irreversible sort of way. It would elevate him to a position he didn't want to be in and didn't belong in. Anyway, he had never been able to stomach the idea of deliberately inflicting pain on me whilst I was helpless, or so he said.

However, but it occurred to me that he might get over that tonight. He was awfully angry. I didn't care though, or told myself I didn't. After all, it would only prove what I had known all along, that he hated me and that was why he adopted me, just to make my life miserable. I'm a master at feeling sorry for myself, obviously.

"Fine", I muttered, "You fight the goons, I'll get the hostages."

"Agreed", Batman said, "We go on three. One…two…" but in a sudden spurt of rebelliousness or a death wish of some sort (because if the goons didn't kill me, he would) I leapt on two and started to attack. He looked so furious when he followed, I thought he might ignore the goons and just come after me. But, he didn't and as soon as he had their full attention, I slipped out of the fray and into the next room.

I could hear the sounds of battle and though I was fairly sure that would mask any of my movements, I slid stealthily along, searching for hostages. It was then that I came upon an awful sight.

Skulking into the next room, I stumbled across a hidden area in the back. There, trapped in cages scattered throughout the space, were dirty whimpering little boys. They ranged from eight or nine to about thirteen or fourteen, all of them trembling, frightened, starving and filthy.

They were covered in various bruises, sores and slashes; it was obvious they had been abused. I was so horrified, I stumbled backwards a few steps. I spied the hostages, tied up in the center of that room, but for a moment, I couldn't even process them. All those little kids just looked so pathetic and scared. Then, one noticed me.

"Robin", he screamed, "Robin, help me please." I put a finger to my lips, bidding him to remain silent. He watched me with wide, hopeful eyes. He wasn't quite as skinny as the others; I surmised he hadn't been there as long. He looked no older than eight.

I crept by the cages, holding my finger to my lips as I passed the kids. Though most of them looked excited to see me, some didn't even seem to realize I was there. They gazed right through me with dull, empty eyes, as if nothing mattered to them anymore. They chilled me more than any others.

I made it to the hostages and was about to reach out and untie the first when I felt a hard kick in the side. I went flying and hit one of the cages. The child within shrank back and I looked up, vision swimming, to hone in on my attacker. It was a teenager about my age, snarling ferally like a wild dog.

He grabbed one of the hostages and held a knife to her throat. She whimpered, trembling, but remained relatively quiet. Bleeding as she was, I could tell she had probably been punished for crying out before. She needed attention.

"Easy now buddy", I said as gently as I could, slowly getting up, "How about you just hand me the girl."

"You wish", the boy hissed, his filthy brown hair falling in his eyes. "That's not gonna happen boy blunder, I suggest you just run back to daddy."

"I'm sure we can work something out", I said gently, "We can get you out of here. I can't imagine this is all that nice of a place."

"Are you kidding me", the boy asked, grinning to the roots of his twisted yellow teeth, "This is a glorious place, look around you."

"All I see is little kids crying", I replied.

"Not kids", the boy whispered ruthlessly, "Little soldiers. Gregor, he breaks them down and builds them back up, just as he did with me."

"We can get you help", I said calmly, slowly inching closer. If I could get near enough, I might be able to move faster than the knife and disarm him before he hurt the girl.

"Help!" the boy shrieked with primordial laughter, like an ancient savage, "Why would I want help? He has liberated me, he has given me purpose. I was his toy, his plaything and now I am his soldier. I am for him alone."

"Alright", I said, "Well, you can go back to being his only one or whatever, just release the hostages and the kids and I'll be gone."

"He takes us from the streets", the boy continued dreamily, as if he hadn't heard me. "We are like rabid dogs there, all orphans, kids the state could never adopt out and so forgot. We're from all sorts of places, this state, others, it doesn't matter to him. My parents were murdered in front of me when I was eight." I froze. He continued, his creaking voice like an old windmill, stopped me in my tracks and rolled over me with a kind of power that allowed me no movement.

"Yes, they were killed by a mobster, someone who wanted protection money. They were in the accounting business you know, my wonderful mom and my good old dad. He used to call me sport and play ball with me in the backyard. Then, this mob guy came and killed them, right in front of me."

"I didn't know it at first, that it was a murder, I was so confused. After all, it had been a fire in our house. I watched them burn to death, listened to their screams. Then, I was taken to this police station. They said someone was gonna adopt me, but nobody ever did. Nobody wanted me. It was the middle of the recession and anyway, who wants some dumb, traumatized eight year old?"

"After about a year, I was on the streets, bitter and alone. Then, Gregor kidnapped me and suddenly I had purpose. He broke me down, tore me apart and built me into the man I am today, a man capable of taking the life of the one who took my parents, Tony Zucco." Then, he started laugh like maniac, tossing his head back and throwing that messy hair out of his eyes. They bulged and glittered with frenzied light.

I was so shocked by his testimony, which was so familiar to me, I couldn't move. My chest constricted and I couldn't breath. Continuing to cackle, he darted up towards me with almost inhuman speed and slashed the knife down at me. That was when I snapped out of it and danced to the side.

But suddenly, it was as if all the fight had leeched out of me. I could barely move. His leg snaked out and he tripped me. I toppled, my jaw smashing into the pavement, and he was atop me. He raised the knife above his head to bring it down to my chest, quietly whispering in that chilling voice "blood for blood". I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, thinking these moments were my last when a pair of black boots appeared where he had been.

The boy smashed against the wall and went limp like a rag doll. Batman was standing there in the light, face contorted in a snarl as his chest heaved in heavy breaths. He looked down and then offered me a hand. "Are you alright?" he grunted. I nodded silently, still too deep in thought to react very much to anything.

Batman looked around the room in disgust and said, "Lets start freeing these kids. Then, we can go home." I knew in the back of my mind he was gonna murder me at home, but I didn't even care. I just couldn't get that boy's awful eyes out of my mind, or that laughter, or his tale, all these little boys' tales. All orphans, all living in this hell because they hadn't been taken in.

Slowly, I began to unlock the cages and let kids out. Some of them hugged me, but I barely paid attention. I carried a few out, but led most out on foot to be taken away by the police officers. I didn't know where they were going, but I felt for them. At least this publicity might get them adopted though.

As soon as we had finished, I followed Batman back to the car. The ride was silent and I wondered if he felt the change in my demeanor. No longer was I angry. No, now just felt empty.

We returned to the cave and exited the car in silence. I was almost surprised he didn't bring up the topic of my attitude right there, but he asked me first if I was injured. I shook my head; I hadn't sustained anything serious enough to merit his attentions. He nodded and walked off, no doubt pour over more crime files. I climbed up the stairs slowly and painfully, deep in thought. I didn't know what to do.

0000000

Lying in my bed, my mind leapt from the bonds I had put down for it and eagerly flew to all those places where it would torture me the most. It dove fervently into them, ripping and tearing and destroying me. I was so much like that boy, that crazy boy.

I had looked him up on my computer before I had gone to bed. His name was Jeffery Mcdougal and he was my age. We had been orphaned within a month of each other. I saw a picture of him next to his father and mother. They all looked so happy together, just like my family had been.

Tossing and turning in bed, I wondered. What if Bruce hadn't wanted me, what if he hadn't taken me in? What if no one had wanted another "dumb, traumatized eight year old"? What would I have done?

Would I have ended up like Jeffery, cackling as he held a knife to the throat of an innocent hostage? Would I have been beaten, starved, abused and terrified, crouching in one of those cages like an animal until I went insane?

All these thoughts tumbling through my head, I felt suddenly an incredible sense of guilt crash over me. Bruce had taken me in, no questions asked, open arms and tonight, I had thrown all that right back in his face. I felt I was the most awful human being that had ever lived. I could have ended up like Jeffery, but it was Bruce that had kept the revenge from eating me up inside like it had that boy.

It was Bruce that kept me from living on the streets or being passed from foster family to foster family. I had Bruce to thank for everything, but here I had been yelling at him.

Unable to deal with it lying alone in the darkness any longer, I got up and slowly padded down the hallway into Bruce's room. His light was on and he was quietly reading. He looked up when I came in. "Dick", he said smoothly, his voice cool and even, "We need to talk. I'm concerned about your recent behavior and I think…"

But whatever he was going to say after that was blown away by my rushing up to him, tossing my arms around his neck and climbing up onto his lap. I straddled him, my legs hanging down on either side of the chair, and started to sob. I buried my head in his shoulder and cried frantically.

He was noticeably taken aback, but I had to give him credit because rather than trying to figure out what was wrong, he decided to deal with the immediate problem of the fifteen year old weeping on his lap and put his arms around me. I hadn't pulled something like this for years and no doubt he assumed something must be awfully wrong. I didn't exactly get all worked up about dropping an ice-cream cone anymore.

"Alright Dick", Bruce said gently, stroking my hair, "Alright, alright, it's ok. Shh, everything's alright." Him not just kicking me off his knees, him not yelling, broke my heat even more because here I had been so awful to him and he was being so wonderful.

My tears intensified, something that surprised him even more because normally his gentle words calmed me, rather than seemingly digging deeper into my wounds. "Dick", he said anxiously, "Dickie bird, it's ok. Whatever it is, it'll be ok. Just calm down and tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if I don't know."

"You're so wonderful", I wailed, "and I'm so awful. You're the best father there ever was and I'm a terrible human being. You're so good. I love you so much. Thank you so much for loving me and taking care of me and being so good to me when I didn't deserve any of it. You're such an amazing person and I'd be dead without you. I'm a wretch."

Bruce was so shocked by this, which was probably the last thing he had expected to come out of my mouth after our awful night, he stopped trying to comfort me for a moment. I took this immediately as a rejection and my wailing sobs intensified. He regained his composure in a moment and put his arms around me again.

"Alright, alright kiddo, hey, just hush ok, everything'll be alright. Just calm down. I promise, whatever it is, I won't let it hurt you. I love you." Slowly, I stopped sobbing and calmed, leaning against him heavily as he stroked my back.

"Alright Dickie bird", he said once I had quieted enough, "Why don't you tell me what all this about, starting with your behavior earlier this evening."

"I was mad", I said softly, feeling purged. I shifted my weight a little on his lap and he responded accordingly by moving his arms and drawing me closer. The feel of our soft pajamas rubbing together made me feel cozy and reminded me of cold winter nights in front of a fire, drifting off in his arms as a small child.

"I was mad because of the things people say about us." Bruce sighed.

"I'd hoped you'd be spared that, but as it is, I suppose I should have seen it coming. My poor Dickie bird, I know it's rough. I'm sure it doesn't bother me as much as it bothers you, but believe me I don't like it."

"I didn't really factor in the idea of how you would be treated when I took you in and I don't know if I made things clear but this isn't the only living situation available to you. If, at any time, you decide this isn't what you want, I can put you up for adoption." I lifted my head and looked up at him incredulously.

"No", I whimpered, "no, I don't want another family, I wanna stay with you." For emphasis, I snuggled my head into his shoulder. Bruce gave a sigh of relief, like things were a lot better all of the sudden, and stroked my hair.

"I don't want to lose you Dick, but I love you and I'm wiling to admit that our way may not be the best."

"It is", I whispered. He smiled. "I hurt you didn't I?" I mumbled, "When I said I wanted to go."

"Maybe a little", he replied.

"I don't wanna go though."

"I know", he replied, "I know, and I wish I could make them stop making fun of you."

"I suppose I'll just have to deal with it", I mumbled.

"I could always just go to their houses and threaten them at batarang point." I rolled my eyes. He chuckled and kissed my hair. I gave a sigh.

"Tonight", I said softly, "I met this boy, you know, the one that was trying to kill me." He nodded and stroked my back. He told me his story. He was eight when his parents were killed in front of him, murdered by Tony Zucco.

Bruce stiffened slightly and then relaxed again, speaking smoothly. "And this troubles you."

"His situation is so similar to mine, but with one difference. He was put up for adoption, but nobody wanted him, so that sicko picked him up and turned him into what he is now. All that rage over his parents ate 'em up inside. I just can't help but wonder if the same thing would have happened if no one had wanted me."

"But I wanted you Dick", Bruce said gently, "it's not good to dwell on those sorts of things."

"But", I murmured, "It could have been me. It's not like I was any more deserving or any more special than him. In fact, if I hadn't been real lucky, it would have been me. If you hadn't been there that night or if you hadn't wanted to deal with me…"

"Dick", Bruce cautioned.

"It's ok", I said, sitting back to gaze into his gentle blue eyes, "I'm ok with it now. You're the remarkable one; you saved me. Without you, who knows where I'd be. I owe you everything. I just wanted you to know how grateful I was that you've been there to make sure I never turned into someone like that kid. I wanted you to know how much I loved you for it." He grinned at me and pulled me in close.

"You're awful, you know that."

"How come?" I asked.

"Because here I was, all ready to punish you for behaving like a brat tonight and you come in and start getting all cuddly and now, I can't even think about doing anything." I giggled and snuggled in even more. "See, there you go doing it again", he growled playfully, giving me a squeeze. We sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's company. He hummed quietly to himself, a kind of lullaby that made me feel sleepy all of the sudden.

"I'm not still in trouble, am I?" He chuckled.

"No, I guess not. But, next time you're angry, don't blow up. I'll put up with it, but if it becomes a habit, others won't."

"You put up with so much from me", I said playfully.

"I know", he grumbled.

"But, it's because you love me", I replied.

"Yea, I guess I do kid. You better get to bed though." I nodded and climbed off his lap.

"Night Bruce", I said, kissing his forehead.

"Night", he replied, giving me a little kiss back.

"Love you."

"Love you too." With that, I trotted back to my room.


	2. Tim Drake

Science fairs can be a tricky business. For one thing, you have to make sure to avoid what you think the other kids will be doing, for fear you might get downgraded for following the masses. That particular science fair, I had picked the perfect project, a detailed analysis of the life cycle of the maggot and how it could be used to determine how long a dead body had been dead, depending on where the body was found and how the person had died.

This, actually, was something rather close to my heart, being that I was so into crime intervention, for obvious reasons of course, and I thought it showed in my work. The judges seemed to agree because that afternoon, along with the cartons of rotting meat and jars of flies, I toted along a first place trophy.

Now, science fairs aren't really all that big of a deal I suppose, but I was twelve and I was excited. After all, I had won and I had worked rather hard to do so, beating Jimmy with his photon experiments and Ella May with her combustion analysis of various foods.

I wasn't just winning for myself, though that was almost enough. No, I was also winning for my dad. I wanted to see the smile on his face when he saw my trophy, wanted to feel his hug. I wanted to see the pride in his eyes, to have him be proud of me. I was sure winning first place out of the whole school merited at least an hour of his undivided attention. So, the first thing I expected when I bounded in the door that afternoon was a question about how the whole thing had gone.

"Tim, watch those nasty flies. You know how I feel about those things in the house. And that meat smells awful." I stopped, standing stalk still with my shoulders drooping ever so slightly.

"Yes sir." I walked out, stowing the flies, maggots, and meat in the place outside where I kept them. I would have to find something to do with it all later if I wanted to further my experiments. For now, my things would keep. "Dad", I said excitedly, bouncing in once more, eyes large and hopeful, "Guess what?"

"Tim, I'm kinda busy, can you make it quick?" Leaning over his desk with papers spread out in front of him, Dad was working diligently on something. I didn't know what it was, but I figured it was pretty important. After all, I had been talking about the fair all week. He must have heard me at some point, right?

"I won the science fair", I said excitedly, almost bounding out of my skin with barely restrained excitement. My enthusiasm, however, was not matched by my father's.

"That's nice Tim." At first, I wondered if he hadn't heard me.

"Daaaaaad", I said insistently, grabbing his arm, "I won; you wanna see my trophy?"

"Tim", he said, exasperation ringing clear in his voice, "I told you I'm busy. Go out and play with your friends or something. I'll look at the stupid thing later." I was crushed. Stupid thing? I had worked my tail off for that and he didn't even care.

"Daddy", I murmured, "I worked really hard."

"Yea, that's wonderful Tim, now go. I'm working."

"What are you working on?"

"Vacation plans."

"Ohh", I said, face lighting up, "Where're we going?" The thought of some vacation time with my dad sounded amazing, better than I could have hoped for. Maybe, we could talk about the science fair, maybe he would be proud of me then, maybe he would…

"You're not coming, it's just for me and Dana."

"But…" I whimpered.

"You have school Tim, now stop whining and go play or something." Slowly, I ambled away. "Kids, lord they're a pain." The comment was not meant for my ears, but I heard it anyway. Feeling my insides shrivel up like a weed, I shuffled into my room, settling down on my bed.

"It's not fair", I whimpered to myself. The stupid trophy, still gripped in my hand, glittered in the bright afternoon sunshine. Feeling suddenly disgusted by it, I hurled the thing across the room. It sailed through the air and crashed into the wall, falling to the ground and rolling across the carpet into the corner of the room. I drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them.

But, I wasn't going to cry. No, I refused to allow myself to sink into that stupid baby stuff. I spent about thirty minutes sitting on my bed, shifting through my torrent of emotions as best I could. Finally, I came to the conclusion that he had simply expected me to win the fair and, therefore was not surprised by my accomplishing it. It was just a stupid kid's fair anyway, nothing to get so worked up about.

Maybe, now that Dad had worked for quite a while, he would be done and could give me some attention. That was what I craved more than anything that moment, a little bit of attention from him. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it would be enough.

"Dad", I called, walking out of my room. I heard him laughing at something in the living room and meandered in, trying my best to look nonchalant and not like I had been on the verge of tears a little while ago. "Dad", I called again. Dad looked up at me, a grin still splitting his face. He had his arms around Dana, beaming almost as widely as she was.

"Hi Tim", she said pleasantly. I nodded in her direction.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

"I was thinking, we could, you know, go do something maybe, you and I."

"How about next week Tim, after the vacation Dana and I are taking. I have things to do. Hey, I just bought you that new skateboard, go ride it." Feeling my heart drop, I nodded, slowly exiting. The board was leaning against the wall, casting a dark shadow over the ivy making it's leisurely way up the bricks.

It was a very nice board and I was glad to have it, but I would have rather had a couple minutes of Dad's time at least. I never got any of it. Fastening my helmet, I climbed onto the skateboard and started down the street. Physical exertion often helped when I was upset.

Weaving my way through people walking this way and that down the streets of Gotham, I rolled into one of the classier Gotham parks. I liked this particular park because all the sidewalks were nicely paved and large, making their way through the whole thing like a spider's web with the trees thick and shading me pleasantly and looming over so there was that over all woodsy feel a city kid craves. I could go anywhere fast.

Of course, it all worked so much better when I was looking where I was going. I was rounding a bend, past a quiet grove of poplar, deep in thought and not watching the walkway, when I rammed straight into a large shape. Toppling off my board, I smacked the back of my head against the pavement. My vision swimming slightly and both my knees ripped open, I looked up, wondering what I managed to connect with. To my horror, the first thing that met my gaze was a man in an expensive looking suit on the ground across from me.

"Young man", a voice above me exploded, "You need to look where you're going. Where are your parents? Are you unsupervised? I think they need to hear about this."

"It's ok Garvey, I'm not hurt." The voice was deep, rolling and horrifyingly familiar.

"Well Mr. Wayne, really, now I don't want children in the park behaving this way." That was the first time I saw the man I had knocked down clearly. Bruce Wayne was picking himself up slowly off the ground, wiping his hands across his suit to get the dirt off.

"Ohh, I'm so sorry Bruce", I said desperately, still sprawled rather pathetically on the ground.

"You will refer to him as Mr. Wayne", the other man snapped, "Have you no respect?"

"It's fine Garvey, we know each other. You ok Tim?" Bruce knelt down in front of me, lifting my chin so he could look my face over. I nodded swiftly.

"I'm fine."

"Your knees aren't." As soon as I noticed just how large the amount of skin I had managed to rip off was, the wounds started to bite like flames and I surpassed a grimace. Bruce noticed it anyway though. "That looks pretty bad kiddo. Your dad here?" I shook my head.

"Well Mr. Wayne, I really do have to be going. I shall see you again soon I hope", Garvey said suddenly. Bruce nodded pleasantly, but remained on the ground next to me even as Garvey walked swiftly away.

"Yeesh kiddo, you were riding fast. You gotta watch where you're going."

"I'm so sorry", I whimpered, "I should have been looking." I hung my head, a tear I couldn't hold back dropping from my chin.

"Hey", Bruce said gently, voice pulled with concern now. "It's ok, you don't have to cry. It's not that bad. I think you got the shorter end of the stick here anyway. I'm relatively unscathed; you're the one who's ripped up." I hung my head, slowly picking myself up off the ground. Bruce stood up next to me.

"Tell you what", he said after a moment, "grab your board and we'll go sit down somewhere so I can clean those up. I've got my belt with me and we can bandage them. Unless, that is, you have to be somewhere."

"You don't have to", I said quickly, "its not that big of a deal. Don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

"Its no trouble", Bruce replied, "I haven't seen you in a while. We can use this as an excuse to catch up."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" I asked. Bruce shook his head.

"Come on." I followed him, mostly because he insisted, off the sidewalk to a comfortable looking grove of trees out of earshot of the path. "Now we'll be able to talk", he said, settling down in the grass. He patted the spot next to him, so I curled my legs beneath me and joined him. "Lets see those knees", he mumbled, pulling up his shirt so his belt was revealed beneath. I wondered briefly if I should have had mine with me.

Unlatching the bright yellow accessory, he opened a few pouches and got out some antiseptic and bandages. He took one of my legs in his great hand and lifted it. I winced as the antiseptic slid over my open wound. "Sorry Tim", he apologized, "it stings doesn't it?" I nodded, doing my best to hold still until he finished. Very carefully and gently, he bandaged my knee. I was surprised by how much care he took in doing it.

Once he had finished the other, I even found myself wishing it had taken a little longer. The attention was unusual and rather pleasant. "Any other wounds that need attending to?" he asked gently. I shook my head, though I wished the answer could have been an affirmative. Bruce settled himself more comfortably, leaning back against the tree trunk behind him. "So, how have you been?" I shrugged, figuring once the mandatory inquiry about my personal life was over, we would talk about my training or something.

"Fine." He cocked his head, looking at me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing", I replied, "everything's great."

"You know, you can talk to me about anything. I don't know if I've made that clear before, but you're my partner, I want to hear all about everything." How I longed for him to share my joy, but I held myself back, nodding pleasantly.

"Of course." He didn't buy it, not really, but he didn't press.

"So", Bruce continued smoothly, "What's going on at school?"

"Nothing much", I replied.

"Anything happen recently?" Figuring if I continued to say nothing, he would think I was being evasive on purpose, I decided to mention at least one thing.

"There was a science fair today." The usual response to the mention of this sort of event to even the most seemingly interested adult was, 'Ohh, sounds fun', or 'that's nice.' Naturally, that was what I expected from him. But, I didn't get it. Instead, his eyes glittered interestedly.

"Were you in it?" I nodded. "What was your project?" Surprised he actually wanted to hear about it, I was struck dumb for a moment, staring at him. He smiled pleasantly and I regained my wits.

"It's uhh…it's kinda complicated."

"I don't care", Bruce replied, "I want to hear all about what you did. Give me a play by play." So, I began my narrative, giving scarce details at the beginning but gradually, as he made it obvious he really was interested, adding more and more until I was stumbling over myself with excitement, trying to get it all out. Bruce laughed. "Slow down kiddo." I blushed profusely and stopped, silent for a moment as I studied the grass bending beneath me.

"Well", Bruce prompted, "What did the maggots do then?"

"You don't have to listen", I murmured, "I know it's kinda boring."

"You kidding me?" Bruce asked incredulously, "I deal with this sort of thing all the time. It's definitely interesting to me. Keep going." So, I finished, almost jumping up and down with excitement at my findings. Bruce's face broke into the largest grin.

"That sounds like a great experience kiddo, I like that idea a lot. I figured when you said science fair I'd get ten minutes of baking soda and vinegar volcano, but I must say I'm impressed." I beamed, elation bubbling up in me like a hot springs. "Well", Bruce prompted, "I'm on the edge of my seat now. Did you win?"

"Yes", I burst out, leaping up for I was unable to hold it back any longer, "the other kids were so good and I was sure I would lose but then I won." And with that, I launched into the story of the judging and descriptions of some of my main competition, the thought that he didn't care never crossing my mind. The interest in his clear blue eyes told me he was hanging on every word.

"So", I finished, "the judges came up and they gave me the trophy and the ribbon and I was so excited."

"I can tell", Bruce said, chuckling and pulling me onto his lap in a tight hug, "I'm so proud of you kiddo, you worked really hard for that and did so well." I grinned broadly at him and straddled his legs, for the first time that day really able to share my joy with someone else.

"You're really into science, aren't you Timmy?" I nodded, weaving my fingers through the stem of a dandelion and squeezing it until the milk seeped from the fibers. Bruce smiled again at me and ran a hand through my hair. His fingers kneaded the roots, pulling lightly at them. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel and wondering, not for the first time that mid august afternoon, why I was even getting the attention at all, especially from him, for he certainly had better things to do than hang out with me.

"Hey", Bruce said suddenly, putting me down in the grass beside him so he could stand up, "You wanna do something?"

"What?" I asked, confused by his offer.

"We could…go see a movie, if you wanted." Eyes wide with surprise, I cocked my head.

"Why?"

"For you of course, and your achievement. We have to celebrate how well you did." I lit up with surprise, blushing all the way to the roots of my hair.

"You don't have to", I mumbled self-consciously, "it's ok."

"Of course I do", Bruce replied, "Come on, lets go do something fun. We can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course", he replied, giving me a hand up.

"Movies are fun", I murmured shyly.

He grinned broadly and said, "A movie it is. The car is parked at the front of the park, you can toss your board in the back and we'll go. I'd invite Dick but I'm fairly sure he's in the middle of something. We'll give him a call tonight and tell him the good news."

"Do you think he'd care?" I asked dubiously, trekking behind Bruce in his expensive shoes as he picked his way through the brush and back to the path.

"Of course", Bruce replied, brushing a leaf from his satin suit, "he'll be so excited for you." Finally, we made it back to the path. Hop skipping to keep up with Bruce as he strode swiftly ahead, my board bashed against the pavement. I hefted it over my shoulders to keep it off the ground.

"Here", Bruce offered, shortening his stride considerably to accommodate me, "let me take that from you." I handed him the board, which he slung under one arm, and slowed down a bit to match his pace, grateful it was now not quite so fast. "So", Bruce continued, "all your grades are good?" I nodded swiftly and then paused.

"Well", I murmured, "except for…" He gazed at me questioningly.

"Yea?"

"Math", I mumbled quietly, avoiding his gaze as the shame rippled through me.

"How come math's bugging you kiddo?" Bruce asked as we neared the edge of the park and his car. I shrugged and kicked a stone.

"This new stuff we're doing, it's kinda hard."

"It's good for you to be challenged. You're way to smart to squander your time doing something simple." I shrugged again. "Hey", he said softly, dropping a hand gently on my shoulder, "if you need help, you can always come talk to me. I'll help you with whatever you need."

"Really?" I asked elatedly. Bruce nodded, ruffling my hair.

"No point in getting all upset kiddo. I'm always here for you. I'm not just your crime-fighting partner. We're pals, right?" I gazed up at him, surprised he would even insinuate that he, an adult with sophistication and poise, would ever befriend me, a child. I knew he had my back when we were fighting crime, but it had never occurred to me he cared what happened in my life when the sun came up.

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Bounding around him like a yearling colt, I talked excited to Bruce about the movie, still gripping a bag of popcorn in my fist. "It was really good, wasn't it?" he said. I nodded. It had been so much fun watching the movie with him. Together, we could do things like whisper about the bad science or the false police techniques. I couldn't remember when I'd last had such a good time.

"So kiddo", he said, holding my hand as we crossed the street (he considered this a necessity, me being as small as I was, not that I really minded all that much), "I guess we can swing by your house right now, sound good?"

"Yea", I said softly, my spirit sinking a bit. I didn't really want to go home, but it occurred to me he probably had things to do, things that didn't include me. But, I steeled myself. He'd given me so much of his time already, I hardly deserved more.

We drove swiftly across the city, I talking exuberantly to him like I never talked to anyone, him listening and hanging on my every word. It was the most wonderful thing anyone could have ever done for me.

In fact, I was so into my description of another experiment with maggots I hoped to perform, bouncing up and down in my seat with barely controlled exuberance, I didn't even notice the time had passed until we pulled into my neighbor. "I guess I'll see you later Bruce", I murmured softly.

"Later", Bruce scoffed, "I wanna see your trophy. You will show it to me, won't you, and maybe some of your samples? I'd love to see those too." I almost exploded.

"Really?"

"Yea, 'course kid. You gonna show me?"

"Yea, I'll go get them." I opened the door of the car.

"Well, now hold on a sec kiddo", Bruce said through a laugh, "let's wait 'till the car stops, ok." I nodded swiftly and waited anxiously until Bruce had parked before I shot out and bounded up the stairs. Chuckling, Bruce followed me into the house. I almost ran into my dad as I took the stairs two at a time, surging swiftly upwards.

"Hey, hey", Dad snapped, "slow down, you almost knocked Dana and I over."

"Sorry Dad, sorry Dana", I gasped, still out of breath.

"It's alright", Dana said pleasantly, smiling, "where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Mr. Wayne is coming to see my trophy", I replied excitedly, "you know, from the science fair."

"Hello Mr. Drake", Bruce said, coming up the stairs, "Ms. Winters."

"Mr. Wayne", Dad said, "how good to see you. It has been a while. What are you doing up in our neck of the woods? I'd invite you in, but I'm afraid Dana and I have a plane to catch."

"Ohh, that's fine", Bruce replied, "Tim was just going to show me his science fair project." Dad looked confused for a moment and then seemed to remember.

"Ohh yea that, well you didn't have to come all the way down here. It's not that big of a deal." I felt my heart deflate like a balloon, waiting for Bruce to just agree. But instead, he shrugged.

"It's important to him." Dad still looked a little confused, but obviously didn't feel he had the time to sort things out because a moment later, he bid Bruce and I goodbye before leading Dana down to the car.

"Well", Bruce said, gazing at me frozen in the doorway, "lets see it."

"It's ok", I mumbled, "You don't have to."

"Yea right", Bruce scoffed, walking past me, "I came all the way down here because I wanted to see your trophy. You gonna show me or not?" He actually wanted to see it. That really hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Ok", I said shyly, and then skittered swiftly up the stairs. "You can sit down", I called, "I'll be right back." Bruce chuckled and settled down on the couch. I grabbed the trophy off the ground from the corner of my room and searched to see if it had sustained any damage. It hadn't so off I went, down the stairs where Bruce was waiting.

"See", I squealed excitedly, holding it up for him.

"Wow", Bruce said appreciatively, "very nice. I like it." I handed it to him so he could look it over. "Now, why didn't you invite me so I could watch you get it?" I shrugged sheepishly and gazed down at the carpet.

"I didn't even think about it", I replied truthfully, "I figured you wouldn't wanna go."

"Of course I would", Bruce replied, "promise me I can come to the next one." I nodded swiftly.

"I promise."

"Can I see your research?" he asked. With that, I was out the door and back again with my papers and maggots and meat. Bruce watched interestedly as I gave him my presentation and told him about everything, even some extra stuff I hadn't told the judges but I knew somehow he would listen to and care about.

"Excellent job Tim, very thorough. You were talking about follow up research as well?" I nodded. "I'm interested. You can keep this stuff in the cave if you want. That way, you'll have a controlled environment and access to the computers."

"Ok", I said excitedly, "Dad doesn't want it in the house anyway." Bruce laughed.

"I doubt Alfred would want this stuff either. That's why we'll keep it our secret." I giggled. "Well, since your dad's gone, we can hang out here for a while, play some video games."

"Really?" I asked, eyes wide. He nodded, smiling at me.

"Betcha I can beat you."

"Nah ah", I replied. I hopped down to set up the gaming system but then paused. Suddenly, I turned around and bounded up onto his lap, putting my arms tightly around his neck.

"Thanks so much for paying attention to me", I murmured, nuzzling into his embrace, "nobody ever pays attention to me." Bruce put his arms around me, holding me tightly.

"I don't see why not", he said gently, stroking my hair. "I love listening to you talk. Your mind works in such interesting ways, it's nice to see it in action." I grinned at him and then hopped off his lap. "I'm gonna win."

"Yea right", I replied, and hooked up my game. It was going to be a good evening.


	3. Jason Todd

**Hey guys, this is anikanlove. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Busy Busy Busy! Anyway, I'm on vacation and one of my favorite things is to make music videos on my computer so I made a Batman video about Batman and the boys and you can check it out on youtube if you want. Look me up as arrakis626. That should work. Ir's called My Precious One and it's (in my humble opinion) the BOMB! i would post the link, but Fan Fiction won't let me so whatever. Anyway, now I'm done soliciting my work. See yall later! **

"Daaaaaaaad! Daaaaaaaady!" I bounded into the house, backpack swinging about behind me with my heels kicking up high. Skidding to a halt in the living room, I peered around the corner, wondering why Bruce hadn't crept up behind me and playfully assaulted me for yelling in the house.

I beheld the entire Justice League in civilian attire, sitting in my living room like normal human beings. That was rather strange, slightly intimidating even, and it didn't help that they were all staring at me as if I was the anomaly, the thing in the equation that didn't belong.

"Dad?" I said questioningly, gazing around at all of them.

"Hey Blue Jay", Bruce said brightly, acting as though there was nothing at all wrong with the scene as he lounged on the couch next to Diana Prince, "how was school?"

"Fine" I replied.

"Good", he said, "What's up?"

"Umm, I just wanted to ask you something but that's ok, it can wait."

"It's alright", Bruce replied, "come here." I walked slowly over to him, all their eyes boring into me. Bruce smiled broadly at me, which wasn't unusual since he always smile like that when I was around, and scooped me up onto his lap. That had me feeling a little more comfortable and a lot safer, but I still didn't take my eyes off the league.

"Umm, I just wanted to know if we could go to the park today," I asked hopefully, looking up at him.

"Hmm", Bruce said, gazing up at the clock for a moment. Wally West smiled at me. I gave him a small smile back because I knew him and returned my attention to Bruce. "I think so, I'll just wrap up this meeting, 'kay kid?"

"Sure", I replied.

"You gonna go upstairs and get started on your homework now or you gonna mess around for a while?" he teased.

"I'll probably just mess around", I replied sassily.

"Brat", he growled playfully, cuffing me lightly. I giggled and slid off his lap, almost avoiding his half-hearted swat, and fully intending to kill zombies on my x-box for a while when my ears caught something interesting. Bruce discouraged eavesdropping greatly, but there were a lot of things Bruce discouraged that I did anyway.

"He calls you Dad", the voice chortled. I identified it a moment later as Hal Gordon's voice.

"Sure", Bruce replied, a slight edge to his voice, "I did adopt him."

"Bruce, he's street trash, isn't he what you usually fight against." That stopped me dead in my tracks. Street trash? I hadn't know anyone from the Justice League thought that way of me but this was distressing immediately. I had thought I wasn't street trash, not anymore, not since being adopted. "Superman agrees with me, don't you Supes?"

"Well", Superman said slowly, "I mean, Bruce, aren't you worried he'll try and steal from you?" Superman thought I was street trash too? Without even waiting for Bruce's response to that, I darted up stairs to my room, flinging myself onto my bed. This was the first time I'd come in contact with people saying those things about me since I had been adopted, but it wasn't the last.

Incidents like those seemed to dog my heels, snide comments from people who thought they knew it all, outright, blatant stabs at my gutter heritage and it was hard not to start believing that I was all these things they said I was. After all, the majority was usually right, wasn't it?

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It was the same every day, I shuffled slowly into _that _class, the one I hated so much. Giving a sigh, I faced the doorway, gazing at the entrance and feeling small already. Everyday, I had to go to this class but still, I could never get used to it.

Slowly, I walked in the door. Mr. Fark looked up as soon as I entered. He'd been writing something down on a sheet of paper in front of him but his face turned to a sneer as I stepped over the threshold. "Mr. _Todd_-Wayne, how good to see you." I mumbled softly in reply and sat down at my desk.

For most of the teachers at the school, I was just "Wayne". Things were simpler and easier that way. After all, Bruce had adopted me and by law I was a Wayne. Though the register said Todd-Wayne, I had told all my teachers just to use the name Wayne. I wasn't all that big a fan of the name Todd; it reminded me of my father. Had I known my mother's maiden name, perhaps I would have taken that on instead, but I didn't and Wayne was nice to hear, so I requested that be all.

Everyone had taken to it, everyone that is except for Mr. Fark. The way it rolled off his tongue, _Todd_-Wayne, emphasis on my birth name was just so condescending, so plain in telling me I didn't belong in this world. Todd was not a respectable name like Wayne was and as far as Mr. Fark was concerned, it was all I deserved. In fact, he'd said it plainly the first day I'd met him. "You're not his son Mr. Todd-Wayne, and you never will be. You may carry his name, but not his lineage."

"So Mr. Todd-Wayne", Mr. Fark said, sauntering over arrogantly, "did you finish all the work you were assigned last night?" I nodded, slowly getting the assignments out of my folder. I'd had three hours of history last night, something that had kept me from patrol. Bruce refused to allow me to go unless I had everything done and though I had griped and grumbled and screamed at him, I managed to finish.

"Hmm", Mr. Fark murmured, reading over my essay just as the bell rang and the final students took their seats. "Nope, I don't think so." With that, he slammed the paper down onto the desk. "Not good enough Mr. Todd-Wayne, not good enough. But with you, it's never good enough, is it. It's always awful work, useless work, useless just like you."

"Yes sir", I murmured softly, shrinking in my seat with humiliation. Everyone was staring at me, their eyes throwing daggers I couldn't dodge. I felt, at that moment, as though the whole world was gunning for me. Mr. Fark rolled his eyes.

"Pathetic, pathetic, well, lets get on to today's lesson, shall we. The _important_ students need to learn." I got out all the rest of my supplies, preparing to tough it out for the remainder of the class. Everyday, I went through this hell and everyday, I made it. Today would be no exception.

I told myself it didn't bother me that one teacher hated my guts for no reason at all, but when you hear everyday that you're nothing, it's hard not to start believing it. I'd heard it when I lived on the streets and now I heard it everyday in history class.

"So", Mr. Fark began, "who knows the date the Declaration of Independence was signed?" A few kids raised their hands, but I hunkered down in my seat, not wishing to draw attention to myself. "Mr. Todd-Wayne?"

I raised my eyes to him slowly, practically shaking and murmured, "July 4, 1776." I'd memorized all these things last night, hoping that today was the day I might impress him. Apparently, however, I was incorrect.

"No you stupid boy, that's wrong. The day the majority of the delegates signed it was August 2, 1776."

"But you didn't say…"

"Shut up", he roared, cutting me off, "you were wrong. I want a five page essay from you tomorrow about how stupid you are to be getting something as simple as that wrong. You are wasting valuable class time."

"Yes sir", I murmured. I was never this complacent, never this quick to take anything lying down, at least, not unless I was in this class. There was no winning, no way out. I couldn't fight, I couldn't run, I could only lie down and take it like a chained dog.

On and on it went, question after question he managed to twist and turn until my answers were always wrong, never with any sort of validity in his eyes, just as I had none. The end of class was drawing near and I anxiously watched the clock, counting down the minutes.

From the revolutionary war, we had somehow gotten to the current state of welfare and the reforms on it. It seemed a harmless switch, but I knew a loaded topic when I saw one though and prepared to batten down the hatches. Sure enough, Mr. Fark was on me like a pouncing wolf.

"Get up to the front Mr. Todd-Wayne, I'm going to give the class an example." Slowly, I shuffled up to the front, eyes downcast like someone about to be executed. "Now, as you are all aware, the government requires us, all of us, to pay extra taxes for vagabonds such as this one.

Just look at this pathetic creature. There's no merit to his existence, no point, no reason he should even be! Why should we, the upstanding citizens of the United States have to pay taxes on useless drunkards and junkies and prostitutes like this one?" I wheeled around at him, eyes wide in shock.

My past wasn't really a secret but it wasn't common knowledge. What I'd done as a child on the streets was supposed to have been in records that were sealed. How this man had come across them, I couldn't imagine but that didn't matter. I was here, standing up in the front of the classroom with everyone staring at me as my past was laid out before them.

"That's right Mr. Todd-Wayne, I know exactly what you are, and now so does everyone else."

"Y…you can't", I sputtered pathetically.

"Ohh yes I can", he hissed in reply, "I can do whatever I want you worthless little whore. Now, why don't you just go back to where you belong and stop pretending to be something you're not? After all, you're not his son, you never will be."

And that was the final straw, I snapped. I couldn't take their stares, their judging eyes. I tore out of the classroom at top speed, skidding out the door and into the hallways. A few kids called after me, but I didn't hear them, I was crying too hard.

I bolted out the double doors and into the yards, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I fully intended to just keep on running until I fell off the edge of the earth, that is until strong arms grabbed me, pulling me off my course. "Jason, what are you doing?"

"No Bruce no", I howled, fighting my way out of his grasp. I had no idea what he was doing at the school right now, but I didn't care. I just wanted to keep running until I left the whole world behind.

"Jason", Bruce called again, reaching out for me. I darted away and raced off towards the trees at the edge of the grounds. I didn't even hear Bruce pounding after me but he must have been because a few moments later, I felt his strong hand around my arm once more and this time, I could not break his iron grip.

Practically hysterical now, I toppled to the ground, crying frantically and shaking violently. Bruce's arms were around me immediately, holding me tightly to his chest. I clung to him, squeezing him as well and sobbed into his chest.

We sat in the mud together for the longest time, me sobbing and him rocking me gently, murmuring, "Shh, Jason, shh, it's ok, you're ok, I'm here, everything's gonna be fine." Finally, after a while, my crying ebbed a bit and I relaxed some. His shirt was a mess, courtesy of me. On movies and in TV shows, crying never looked all that messy, but for me it always was.

I sagged against him, still shaking. He released me a bit and I contemplated running again, but I no longer had the drive or the energy. "What happened Jason?" Bruce murmured gently, stroking my hair, "you haven't cried like that in years." I stiffened, taking it as an accusation, an admonishment. After all, I was fifteen, I shouldn't have been crying. I sniffled and wiped my nose on my hand. "It's nothing." Bruce gave a snort.

"No, it most certainly is not nothing. Talk to me Blue Jay, what's up?" He sounded concerned, like he cared, but how could you care about nothing. I was nothing, useless, worthless. He couldn't care. I sniffled again.

"Just take me back where I belong Da…Bruce." I couldn't even feel right about calling him Dad, not now. Bruce stiffened a bit.

"We're not going back to the manor until you give me something to work with here kiddo, I'm worried about you, what's up?"

"Not to the manor Bruce, to the streets, where I belong." There was confusion in Bruce's eyes then.

"Jason, you don't belong on the streets, you belong with me, I thought you knew that. What makes you think you should go back to the streets?"

"Everybody says it", I murmured in reply, eyes downcast. I couldn't even meet his gaze.

"Who's everybody?" Bruce asked.

"Mr. Fark", I replied softly.

"Mr. Fark?" Bruce asked, "Your history teacher? What's he got to do with this?" That was when I exploded and couldn't stand the evasive tactic I had been trying any long. Everything spewed put like a mighty deluge.

"Every day Bruce, he says it everyday, all sorts of things. He tells me I'm nothing, but I'm not really nothing, am I?"

"No, no Jason", Bruce murmured gently, taking my face in his large, rough hands, "no of course not. Don't ever think that. You mean the world to me Jason. You're worth so much more than you realize. I know you struggle with that, with feeling like you don't have worth, but you do and if you're ever in any doubt, you can always come to me. Jason, you are worth the world, more than that in fact."

I gazed up at him quietly, eyes red and puffy, and he leaned down and gently kissed my forehead. "I love you so much", he murmured.

"Thanks Bruce", I murmured softly. He smiled gently at me, gazing at me as though I was beautiful and not a filthy, crying muddle, and stroked my hair.

"I'm a mess", I choked softly. Bruce smirked.

"I don't care."

"He called me a whore today," I murmured quietly, feeling better but still pretty miserable, "Put me up in front of the whole class and called me a whore, said I wasn't your son. What am I gonna do now?" It was as if a shadow fell over Bruce and his frame stiffened. His eyes were dark and devoid of any of their usual sparkle.

He got up, grabbing my hand and pulling me up as well. Then, he turned, stalking back towards the school. "Bruce, where're we going?" I asked.

"Just come on", he growled. I knew better than to argue when Bruce looked like that. He fasted the buttons on his suit coat, covering the mess I'd made all over his shirt, and stormed back inside the school, dragging me along behind him. I hadn't known Bruce knew the lay out of my school so well until he managed to navigate his way through right to Mr. Fark's room.

The class was still going on and I was about to say something to Bruce about waiting for after school or at least until after the bell rang when he gave the door a rough shove. It slammed open, revealing the startled faces of my classmates and Mr. Fark. "Mr. Wayne?" he said questioningly.

Bruce released me in the doorway and strode straight up to Mr. Fark. Without saying a word, he swung hard, slugging Mr. Fark right in the nose. I gasped, completely in shock, and my teacher toppled backwards over his desk. "You have no right, no right to ever speak to my son that way, do you hear me!" Bruce roared.

"That boy is my son, whatever you have to say on the subject, and you are in no way permitted to make him feel the way he does everyday. He is a Wayne and I will not stand for slander on my name. If you ever speak to him like that again, I promise you, I will make sure you suffer far more than you have today. Come on Jason, we're going home."

With that, he pivoted and stalked back towards me. I stared in shock for a moment at my teacher, crumpled on the ground, and then trotted swiftly after Bruce. "Dad, the day's only half over", I said, hop skipping to keep up with him.

"I don't care", Bruce replied, "I came here to talk about grants for the school and now I can't even stand to stay in here another minute, so I'm not going to make you stay either. That's just disgusting, what he said to you and I am not going to stand for it, not at all." He slowed down a bit as we neared the car and suddenly turned, hugging me tightly. "You called me dad", he whispered.

"Yea", I replied, practically smothered in his embrace, "I guess since you can scream to the world that I'm your son, the least I can do is say it to you." Bruce grinned.

"I like the sound of that word, it's a good word. Alright, get in the car, lets go see a movie."

"Yes", I said excitedly, "but wait Bruce, my stuff's still in the classroom."

"Who cares, we'll get it later. I have little doubt someone is going to call me about this. There will be a lawsuit and I'm probably going to be here a lot over the next couple days."

"He wouldn't dare sue you", I replied.

"Hah", Bruce laughed, "I'm going to sue him and the school board and the students and the teachers and the janitors and anyone else I can find even half a reason for suing. Nobody talks to my son that way." I beamed at him.

"You know, you're the coolest dad ever." He put his arm around my shoulder, ruffling my hair.

"Yea, I know." I giggled and right then, I felt like maybe I really was worth the world. Well, it didn't matter if anyone else thought so, he did and that was enough for me, the one person in the world who had thought that much of me. Hey, he's Bruce Wayne, he's never wrong, right?


End file.
